Damon’s POV
I was tired.
Physically, yes, but mostly, emotionally. The back-and-forth with Winter was wearing me down. One minute, I thought I could see a future with her—one where I was more than just a patient or a project, where I didn’t have to keep pretending that everything between us was fine. The next minute, I was reminded of just how far we were from that reality.
Winter had been different the last few sessions. There was a noticeable distance between us, a hesitation in her touch, in her words. She was still kind, still professional, but the warmth I’d grown used to was gone, replaced by something colder. Something guarded.
I had tried to push the thoughts of her away, tried to focus on the therapy, on the healing. But it was hard not to notice how much I was drawn to her—ho
